How can you tell?

Castle: How do you know when you’re in love?
Beckett: All the songs make sense.
Songs did make sense to me, some years back. Sometimes they still do. Especially when Avril head bangs while playing her guitar. But even being sixteen, all smart and wise *rolls her eyes* cannot really help me decide when I know it’s for real.
I’m like a Ted Mosby roaming through out different New Yorks in this hasty pursuit of love. Years later, if and when I find it – and narrate to my kids about ‘How I Met Your Father,’  even sixty four seasons won’t be sufficient to tell them about this funny, stupid thing called ‘Love’ and how it has its holes everywhere.
And you just can’t help falling.
I met Abel a few weeks ago. Since he was the only active guy of our community group, I was praying he wasn’t a jerk, a play boy or arrogant, geeky, nerdy, abnormally shy and all the other adjectives a girl does not search for in a guy. He wasn’t any of those things – he wasn’t even interested. He din’t look at me. Spoke to me only when necessary. And otherwise I might as well not be alive to him.
I shook my head and got him out of my brain. It’s easy and possible to jump over the ‘crush-pit’ and reach for the ‘safe-side’ beyond it. I’ve always marveled at the way God created men to be attractive to at least one women’s eye.
But I swear, that doomed Sunday when I got onto that bus and all ready to enjoy my picnic with my buddies, even the A from Abel wasn’t in my thoughts. I was actually contemplating about going into the swimming pool or not? Or whether I should sing at all in the bus. The rowdy boys in our youth group threatened us to sing along with them if we wanted to maintain our dernier seats. “Look isn’t that Abel!” Michelle yelled into my ears as the engine started.
I looked out. Sure, the mass has ended and the entire congregation was coming out of the church. Sure, everyone here has black hair which makes it difficult to spot any person in particular. Sure, the bus was gaining speed and taking me away from … uhm .. I don’t know, whatever. I trained my eyes to search. Thank you Vee for sitting near the window. I tired to stick my head through the metal bars, but only my hand succeeded in getting out.
And there I saw it: A hand rising above his head. I don’t know what shirt he wore or how messy his hair was. All I saw was Abel’s hand waving towards me. Giving me attention. Making me smile. Letting me know I exist. To him.
Augustus Waters from ‘The fault in our Stars’ is one of my much liked fictional characters. I don’t really know what in particular I like about him or how he even made it into my list – but he’s something. When I met Jace at my cousin’s wedding about six months ago, on the eve of my birthday – Augustus Waters’ spirit couldn’t be much far away. Because the moment I saw Jace, I thought I’d seen him – Gus. And it had nothing to do with me still clutching the book at the wedding party.
He was tall, wore a blue shirt and smelled amazing. He had curly hair and I never did like curly hair before, so it was a surprise when I found myself staring at him. With luck, he didn’t notice. But when he noticed I had no partner for the wedding march, he dutifully, like the gentleman he was, offered to be my partner. I couldn’t have a better birthday. About to turn sixteen, a guy on my arm.
But that’s not what made me cherish the evening. As we finished the march and retreated to form a circle for the bride and groom to have their first dance, Jace whispered, asking, “Do you want to dance?”
Admitting, right here, he being the first guy to escort me, ever, these words scared me with glee. Also, add eight years older, good looking and utterly sweet – and you’ll know I was drooling with words that didn’t make sense. “Okay. I guess. If you want to,” I found myself saying.
He smiled. “I only know to dance waltz-”
He inclined his face upwards. I didn’t have to do the same, because I could clearly hear it like the tune of the credit rolls of my beautiful moment. The music has changed to jive. “I don’t really.. know how to jive..” he muttered, “Never mind…” I found the strong grasp of his fingers holding my palm. It was in that moment I didn’t regret the music changing.
Three years ago I was nothing but a thirteen year old teenage girl craving for a better phone and hoping her status update would gain a huge amount of likes. Talking to Ned was what I did the entire summer, and so what? I used to say to myself. I hadn’t spoken to him in the four years I knew him, even though we were in the same school. He asked me to list my favorite five songs and I distinctly remembered being happy about that question.
We simply chatted. On facebook. Without evening knowing how his face looked at that time. I typed it down, the names of the songs, and mumbled, “Boys don’t ask such normal questions these days. Has to be a nice guy.”
The second week of school, after that very summer, I encountered him running down the stairs. “Hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii,” I heard him say all the way down the steps, as he passed me in a whiff. I don’t really think I saw his face at that minute either. But I surely saw it when I turned around, ran down the stairs, followed him, stopped him, and with my accelerated breath said, “Hi Ned!”
I still don’t know how you can tell when you’re ‘really’ in love. I believed at all those instances I was – whether someone simply said ‘Hi’ or held my hand or waved out to me. I fell for that. Yes, I normally also fall for the looks and likes of celebrities like Josh Hutcherson and Theo James and Steven R McQueen – but I cannot help falling in love with humans and their gestures.
How can you stop yourself, I ask, when someone is so kind to you, maybe unknowingly. That’s the best, when they unknowingly touch your heart, their true nature seeping out through their subtle actions.
How can you not fall in love for that brief second?
How can you stop yourself from smiling about it, days, months and years, after the occurring of it is long gone?
How can stop the wanting to feel it again.
How can you stop being there in that moment, the delight of reliving it?
How can you not fall in love?
and How can you tell me that I can love only one soul?
Cause this song makes a hell lot of sense to me.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s